


Stars Which Shine Only for Me

by Rosa_Cotton



Category: Peter Pan & Related Fandoms, Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Awkwardness, Boys Will Be Boys, Breakfast, Complicated Relationships, Confusion, Dancing, Developing Relationship, Dinner, Drama, Embarrassment, Emotional Roller Coaster, Exploration, Eyes, F/M, Fairies, Family, Fantasy, First Kiss, Fluff, Food, Friendship, Gift, Good Peter, Hunting, Jealousy, Kissing, Late at Night, Mermaids, Mornings, Night, Questions, Rabbits, Romance, Secret Spot, Sewing, Smile, Stars, Surprise Kissing, Surprises, Thinking, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings, Watching, Work, crabs, no stars, pet wolf, sleepy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-30
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-03-09 17:28:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3258287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosa_Cotton/pseuds/Rosa_Cotton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Wendy finishes sewing for the night. But she does not go to sleep right away. Because of a certain boy with star-like eyes... Bookverse, AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stars in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _Peter Pan_ , all characters, places, and related terms belong to J. M. Barrie.

Wendy put the last of the thread and needles away in her little basket after completing the sewing for that evening. She then lay out the boys’ pants for them to wear in the morning, their knees now having new double forest green patches. She rose from her rocker, her basket between her hands, and stood still for a moment gazing into the crackling fire.

Then with a small contented smile she gazed upon her sleeping children. The baby, Michael, fitted snugly in the basket underneath his blanket. Held tightly against his chest was his dear teddy bear. Then in the turned-down bed were the seven boys – John, the Twins, Nibs, Tootles, Slightly, and Curly. The signal for turning over had taken place a few minutes ago. Finally, the girl’s eyes traveled to the small bed where their father slept.

Peter lay flat on his back, the bottoms of his feet on the bed and his knees up in the air. His left hand was tangled in his wavy, curly hair. His face was turned toward the bright fire.

Wendy looked at him and started, realizing he was not asleep but silently watching her with his hazel eyes. Some nights when she had gone putting away her sewing she thought there seemed to be two lights looking at her from where Peter lay. Tonight her wonderings were affirmed. His eyes shone, a star in each had come out and was twinkling at her. For her. Never had those stars come out before. Not for the boys. Not for Tinker Bell. And not for Tiger Lily.

A little unsettled by her discovery, Wendy turned from Peter to put away her basket, aware that two bright stars tracked her every movement. Neverland was so different from London, where such looking was frowned upon. Being the girl that she was, accustomed to the rules and traditions she had been brought up in, she was leaning toward putting him in his place.

She took her time with putting her things away. She then stalled further by looking upon each boy and fussing over them. She tucked Michael’s teddy closer. She smiled fondly on John. She drew the covers under the Twins’ chins. She brushed stray locks of hair from Tootles’s and Curly’s faces. And she kissed Slightly and Nibs on their foreheads in a motherly fashion. Then at last she went to Peter. He did not switch the position of his body or head and only continued to gaze wordlessly at her.

The silence stretched out and wove a web around the two. Wendy decided not to go through with her plan of putting Peter in his place when she met his star-filled eyes. Instead she smiled sweetly at him, whispered, “Go to sleep,” and bent down to kiss his cheek. She did not see the stars, sparkling and full of mischief, whisper to each other.

In the blink of an eye, Peter turned his head; Wendy found, instead of her lips being on his cheek, that she was kissing his mouth, and he kissed her back tenderly. With his right hand he took into his possession a lock of her hair which fell over her shoulder. It was when his lips started to part over hers that the lady in Wendy awoke. Her eyes flew open wide as she suddenly realized what she was allowing, was doing. Quickly she jerked away from the boy, though a part of her mind objected and her heart raced, pounding in her ears. Her breath came in heavy gasps. Her cheeks turned red as she watched Peter blink several times as though coming out of a daze. His chest also rose and fell rapidly. With an air of curiosity he linked his lips as though savoring the taste which lingered on them. The girl could not retreat far, for he still held her hair captive. She wanted to open her mouth to scold him but faltered when his bright eyes locked with her blueberry gaze, trapping her. The stars laughed at her, teasing her and no one else. A mischievous grin slipped onto the boy’s face. 

“Go to sleep, Wendy,” he said softly before releasing her hair and soon after her gaze as well.

She stared blankly at him, speechless by what had happened. The stars winked once more before going out. Peter shifted so his face and body were turned away from Wendy.

Slowly the girl at last stepped away from Peter and settled her bedding before the dying fire. With one finger she lightly traced her still burning lips before she closed her eyes and went to sleep.


	2. Ponderings in the Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wendy continues to be distracted by Peter, and is left with more questions than answers...

Wendy crept softly about the house. She had awakened much earlier than usual; her head had been full of wonderings, causing sleep to flee from her. Now she tended the fire, feeding so that it grew stronger and brighter; then she put away her bedding.

She looked on the innocent, peacefully sleeping boys. Wendy knew she flushed as she turned her shy gaze to Peter. This time, she was unobserved – no stars winked at her – as she watched him.

Unconsciously she touched her fingertips to her lips, recalling that unexpected – though not completely unpleasant – incident which happened the previous night. Her first kiss… She had been so stunned by Peter’s actions; what he did was completely against his nature. She was just a little frightened yet also strangely excited by this new side of him which she had never seen before. She could not begin to guess what mood or thought had come over him for him, at that moment, to show that he perhaps was not completely a little boy at heart as he believed. He had been gentle while also insistent when he held her lips and hair prisoners. Now as she thought back on it, she realized she had always assumed Peter’s lips to be dry, rough. She had guessed wrong: his lips had been soft and sweet against her small mouth. And a wave of heat had washed over her. Remembering it, Wendy shuddered; she had never experienced anything like that before. Perhaps it was something that only Peter—

Embarrassed and ashamed of this new unexplored – and possibly dangerous – path her mind was taking, Wendy did not finish the thought but quickly turned her attention away from Peter and instead headed for her tree.

Once above ground, she was greeted by her beloved wolf that bounded out of the trees. Patting her friend gently on its head, Wendy walked through the jungle to gather coconuts for the boys’ breakfast. When her arms were overflowing with the fruits, she started for home, but soon found herself wandering aimlessly about. She was unable to keep her mind from going over last night once more.

Peter was not one to show affection to Wendy or any of the boys. He was one to give orders, and maybe give a kind word – but not too kind, for he was captain, after all. Wendy had never been completely certain of how Peter saw her or what his feelings toward her were; his actions last night now made her all the more confused. She had sometimes dared to imagine in her deep dreams what it would be like to perhaps receive such a kiss. But she had believed it would forever remain a dream, and she had always shaken her head when a tiny voice whispered to her that if she could receive such a thing, she would gladly accept it from Peter.

Why _had_ Peter done it? Would this affect the…friendship between them? Would he be any different because of what had passed between them? How could she face him today (for she knew she herself was not quite the same)? What was she to do?

Wendy found no answers, only more questions as she realized her feet were carrying her back to the house…. She shook her head to clear her thoughts, stepped into her tree after first rolling the coconuts down, and zoomed down into the house. The girl got to her feet and dusted herself off. She began to gather up her fruits but stopped when she for some reason looked up to have her gaze collide with Peter’s, who stood by his bed and stared at her with an expression she could not read. Wendy’s breath caught in her throat at this unexpected contact, and her heart beat rapidly in her chest. Neither child moved or made a sound for a long time. Then, slowly, a cocky grin spread across Peter’s face, like a beam of morning sunshine. Wendy managed to hold back a gasp; had he just winked, or were her eyes playing tricks on her? She felt an answering smile creep from one corner of her mouth to the other. Peter’s grin widened as he came forward until he was scarcely a foot from her. When he was happy, his happiness overflowed and spread to those around him; and Wendy could feel it right then. She watched as the boy placed his fists on his hips in a familiar pose.

“Good morning, Mother!” he greeted her cheerfully.

And for reasons she did not understand, the girl’s heart, which had been beating so wildly, fell to her feet.


	3. Sweetness and Sanctuary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning unfolds with awkwardness, incomprehension, surprise, and solitude.

“Hello, Peter,” Wendy greeted him in return.

She attempted to smile at the boy. But his attention had already shifted; he brought forth his dagger and toyed with it, running one of his fingers along its sharp edge. She followed the path his finger took before turning away and started gathering the coconuts scattered about the floor. She nearly knocked heads with Peter who had bent down to help; he raised his eyes to hers, and she quickly looked away, mumbling an apology.

She carried the fruit in her arms to where she did her cooking and set them neatly on the floor. Kneeling down next to them, she took her dagger (given to her by Peter) and sliced the coconuts in half. She kept her head lowered, her hair shielding her flaming face, ignoring Peter who placed the rest of fruit at her feet. He stepped back, watching her work quietly, a curious light in his eyes. Wendy did not raise her head, for she was aware of being observed. But she could not simply stay there on the ground when her task was finished. Gracefully standing to her feet, she moved past the boy without a glance and tended to the fire. Peter continued to watch her wordlessly.

The strange silence was broken when the boys stirred and greeted their parents cheerfully after rubbing the sleep from their eyes. After they all had dressed and the bed had been put up, Wendy laid the sliced fruit on the table before the hungry boys. With impatient fidgeting, the boys waited for their father to be seated and to give the sign before digging greedily into their juicy breakfast.

The meal passed quickly, for all the boys were most excited to head out to play that morning. Wendy did not sit down to any of breakfast but started on her morning chores so that she could have a little bit of time to go above ground today. Besides, she had only gotten enough coconuts for the boys; instead, she put some water over the fire to make herself some tea.

She was in the middle of dusting when Peter and the others rose from the table, licking coconut juice from their fingers while contentment shone in their eyes. Wendy saw them off, giving each a kiss on the forehead, which pleased them greatly, before they disappeared up their trees. She then discovered Peter had already slipped away. She tried to shrug off an unexpected pang of disappointment and turned to clear up the table.

She was surprised when she saw half of a coconut left on the table. For a moment she blinked at it in puzzlement. Her brows drew together as she tried to remember who had not eaten all of his breakfast. But she had not paid that much attention to the boys this morning, for she had busied herself with work and tried to hide from Peter’s gaze. Any one of the boys could have not finished the fruit. Wendy was unable to hold back a tiny smile as another thought came to her: perhaps the coconut had been intentionally saved for her! True, she had not been asked during the meal if she would eat or had already eaten, but still…

She tipped her head back, and a delightful laugh rang out. She could not help but be pleased at the possibility that the fruit was intended for her; she decided it was so, and the morning was suddenly much brighter to the little girl. She skipped up to the table and took the slice into her hands, her mouth watering. It did not take her long to eat the delicious fruit all up; it made up a sweet breakfast along with her tea she had right after.

Full of bubbling happiness for the first time this day, Wendy hurried through the rest of cleaning the house with a song on her lips and a sparkle in her eyes. When she put away her broom, she rushed to her tree and stepped outside a moment later.

The sun shined brightly. There was hardly a cloud in the sky, which was of the loveliest blue, matching Wendy’s eyes. A cool breeze swept through and about the Neverland, creating a warm, comfortable day. Birds sang happily to one another. Chipmunks played tag among the trees. Rabbits feasted on the fresh green grass. Yes, it was a wonderful day – Wendy could feel it.

Immediately she purposely made her way through the island, her feet knowing the way. She eventually came to a dense part of the island. Trees were cramped together, shutting out the sunlight. Some of the trees seemed to be wilting in this dark place. Ivy hung in thick heavy curtains on the branches. Wendy continued on, knowing every landmark. She halted before one certain curtain of ivy. Putting her hands in front of her, she plunged forward. She could see nothing; she could only feel the ivy slide past her as she slowly walked on, neither turning to the left to the right. She sometimes felt she was trapped in the middle of a dark sea with no escape, but she knew she just had a little more to go… Suddenly the ivy ended, and Wendy parted the last of it, stepping out of the vines and into her secret hideaway.

She was enclosed in a circle of hanging ivy. Following the ivy, she could spot the tops of the old trees against the dark green. Lifting her eyes even farther, it appeared she was gazing upon more trees – trees made of gold and silver, sparkling in the darkness. At times Wendy fancied she could make out windows in those strange, breathtaking trees, and a dazzling white light shone from inside. And upon raising her gaze beyond even those trees, the girl saw a glimpse of blue sky spying curiously on the mysterious, secret place; and today a ray of sunshine had even managed to steal down, pouring light in the middle of that place.

Wendy did not creep into the middle of the clearing; instead she kept her back pressed to the wall of ivy behind. (Should she have ventured forth, she undoubtedly would have become frightfully lost if she left through the wrong curtain of ivy.) She dared not. This place seemed sacred to her, and she was certain she could smell magic in the air. She did not want to intrude. She simply seated herself down and gazed long and hard at the lovely silver and golden trees towering so high above her.

Wendy had known about this place for a long while. She had stumbled upon it on one of her first expeditions she made of the island alone. She had been puzzled when she found the trees so close together that no light could be seen; Peter had not shown it or even mentioned it to her when he had given her tours of the island before. She was not afraid of the place – despite of how dark and uninviting it appeared – but very curious. She did not think of attempting going through any of the curtains of ivy, until she saw _that one_ , the one curtain which led to this amazing place. She was instantly entranced and had stayed still for seemingly ages, drinking in the wondrous sight. She had reluctantly left to return home, vowing to find the place again. Amazingly, the first time she returned to the dark wood, she found the secret hideaway.

She guessed no one knew of the place, or at least did not come there. She had a great joy: perhaps she was the only one who knew of this place of wonder. She had never told any of the boys about this place; it was her own little secret.

Wendy sighed. Here she thought nothing of the boys or Peter or of all that would have to be done when she returned to the house under the ground. Instead, a pleasant smile settled on her pretty lips, and she imagined that fairies dwelled in the trees above her and that they were getting ready for a party…


	4. Hunting for Dinner and Other Things

When Wendy returned to the house under the ground several hours later – with a skip in her step and a pleasant smile gracing her face – she was surprised to discover Peter sitting in his chair, playing on his pipes before the roaring fire. Slowly Wendy approached the boy, standing behind him, and rested one of her hands on the back of his chair. The music escaped Peter's pipes, leaping about the house, rushing in circles. Wendy listened, spellbound. The music was playful yet also mournful, it seemed to her. She felt like crying, laughing, dancing, and sitting quietly all at the same time. Slowly, the music died away, and Wendy recalled where she was.

"Peter, what are you doing here? You usually stay out with the boys until supper time," Wendy said softly, reluctant to break the peaceful, seemingly sacred silence.

Peter jumped, startled. He tilted his head back, looked up into Wendy's face, and flashed her a cocky smile, shrugging his shoulders.

"I was bored," he replied, then turned away and put his pipes away.

_Bored?_ Wendy was shocked. Peter was never bored. Her eyebrows rose. "Where are the boys?" she asked as she moved to the area of the house where she did the cooking.

"I don't know."

A light frown of concern settled on the girl's face at Peter's answer. Of course the boys had gone off adventuring by themselves many times before, but they were Wendy's children and, like every mother, she could not help but worry a little about them, hoping they would not fall into any trouble.

"What did you do today?" she asked, crouching down and rummaging through the food stored on several shelves, seeing what she had to cook, her frown deepening.

Peter talked to her back, "I visited the redskins."

Wendy halted for a moment, staring blankly at her pile of pans stacked next to the shelves.

_Visited the redskins, visited Tiger Lily._

"Oh," Wendy said, though rather coolly, and resumed her work stiffly.

"I ate with the Chief and Tiger Lily," Peter added. "And she said she could make me an Indian outfit!" Delight rang in his voice. "Isn't she sweet?"

"I suppose you won't be hungry for supper then!" Wendy huffed, purposely ignoring the question. Angrily she blinked back tears gathering in her eyes. She knew she was acting childishly, but she couldn't help it. She never looked favorably on Peter's special friendship with Tiger Lily, but she could never put words to her feelings; besides, it was not her place. She accepted the friendship as best she could. But this revealing information, along with the nagging thoughts that had plagued her regarding last night…she didn't know what to do or think!

She almost yelped when she felt Peter place a hand on her shoulder.

"But I do want supper, Wendy. You're a wonderful cook," Peter said softly, uncertainly. Confusion clouded his hazel eyes.

Wendy was silent, unmoved by this truthful flattery. Instead, she gazed in despair at the bread, fruits, and vegetables. Sighing, she rose to her feet, Peter's hand falling away from her shoulder. In the next moment, however, she was spun around and brought face to face with Peter. She could only gape at him wordlessly.

"What's the matter, Wendy?" he asked, frowning at her flushed face and teary eyes.

Wendy dropped her gaze to her feet.

"Is it the boys – have they done something wicked?" Peter demanded, his eyes flashing suddenly.

Wendy shook her head slowly, blushing.

"Did something happen while you were out today?"

Again Wendy's head swayed back and forth.

"Wendy…," there was a warning edge in his voice as he said her name, knowing she was keeping something from him. But she stubbornly kept her mouth shut.

Peter watched her for several silent seconds, the expression on his face unreadable. Then his face cleared, except for a flicker of possible unease in his eyes.

"Is…is it…have I done something wicked?"

"What…no!" Wendy denied quickly, finally turning her eyes – wide and filled with guilt – to Peter.

"Something's upset you," Peter stated determinedly.

"I…," Wendy desperately racked her mind for an answer; her eyes lighted on the food sitting on the shelves and she remembered. "I don't have anything to serve with the stew I'm going to make tonight. The boys will want something besides that and bread," Wendy explained her dilemma, gesturing to the shelves.

Peter followed Wendy and knelt down beside her as she rambled on about her problem, animating with her hands. Peter looked over the supply of food with seeming interest. He did not know the first thing when it came to cooking. But he did not like seeing Wendy so unhappy, and he decided something had to be done.

"What would you want to serve with the stew?" he interrupted her.

Wendy was quiet for a moment. Her face then lighted with dawning hope and anticipation. "Rabbit and crab," she answered.

Peter looked at her with a mixture of surprise and curiosity. Wendy had prepared rabbit in the past, but never had she used crab in any of her cooking before. Nodding his head firmly, he got to his feet and pulled Wendy up with him.

"Well, then, we shall go and get some rabbit and crab!" he announced.

Wendy was happily stunned but quickly gathered up her dagger and a sack and exited the house through her tree. Peter had beaten her and was excitedly waiting for her. Waiting with him was her pet wolf who greeted her cheerfully. Her spirits immensely lifted, Wendy laughed and hugged her furry friend. Peter took the wolf aside and had a few quiet words with her. Bowing her head gracefully, the wolf then licked her mistress's hand and bounded off. Wendy looked questioningly, but Peter either did not notice or chose to ignore her look. Instead, after taking her by the hand, he eagerly led her through the forest.

Soon they reached the Mermaids' Lagoon. Wendy stayed on the shore while Peter flew out to Marooners' Rock. Sitting himself down, he brought forth his pipes and begun to play. The music was low and mysterious, stretching its hands over the water; so quiet was the lagoon that Wendy could clearly hear Peter's playing. He had not sat there long on the rock when several of the mermaids swam to the surface.

In the waning dusk, evening shadows cast on the fair mermaids' faces caused their beauty to have a mysterious – even a bit sinister – quality than they did in the afternoon sunshine, when they would laugh and sing while playing with the bubbles. Shuddering slightly, Wendy was grateful she was not having an audience with them right then.

"Peter Pan!" the mermaids greeted the boy and asked what he was doing there.

"I am in need of some crab," Peter answered, bowing politely to the mermaids.

They murmured quietly among themselves for a moment and then dived underneath the surface.

Watching from the shore the mermaids disappear, Wendy wondered if perhaps the mermaids were not going to give Peter any crab. But he obviously did not share her uncertainty, for he sat back down on the rock and lazily played upon his pipes once more.

The mermaids returned several minutes later. Two of them held a silver net between them. Peter got back to his feet. He reached down for the net, but the mermaids pulled it back out of his reach.

"What will you give us for the crab?" one mermaid asked.

Peter shrugged. "What do you want me to give you?" he asked them.

The mermaids whispered among themselves again. "You shall have the crab if you will give each of us a thimble and we may give you one," one mermaid spoke for herself and her fellow sisters.

Peter eagerly nodded, not at all troubled by this condition as other boys who might find themselves in a similar situation would be. Unembarrassed, he gave each fine girl a thimble on her wet, cool cheek, and he received their thimbles on his own cheek. When this had been completed, the two mermaids with the silver net handed it over to the boy. He took it with one hand, then, leaning down quickly before they realized what was happening, he snatched a comb covered in tiny shells and pearls from one of the mermaids' heads. They cried in outrage. But Peter was already in the air, laughing at them and, crowing loudly, flew to where Wendy was waiting.

Reaching her, he was still chuckling. His face glowed with excitement, and his eyes looked a bit dazed.

_Maybe it is from receiving so many kisses from such pretty mermaids_. Wendy did not like this unexpected thought, but knew it was possibly true. She had watched the display with deep disapproval. In London, a mother would have been completely scandalized if her son did such a thing of exchanging kisses with eight girls. But this was not London, and Peter was not Wendy's child.

Peter crowed a final time, pulling Wendy from her thoughts. Grinning, he held up triumphantly the silver net which was full of crabs. Grandly he presented the comb to Wendy, who accepted it slowly. Though she was not certain it was right to steal the comb, she could not help but admire it and give Peter a pleased smile before examining it again.

"Put it in your hair," Peter said when Wendy continued to simply hold the comb in her hands.

She did so, a bit uncertainly since she had no mirror to see what it looked like. But Peter nodded in approval after staring at her for a long moment.

"Come, we should head back," he said and started away from the lagoon, followed closely by Wendy.

"But…what about getting some rabbit?" Wendy asked hesitantly.

Peter just gave her a cocky smile over his shoulder, his eyes twinkling at her, as though he knew some pleasant secret. In a few minutes they reached the clump of trees that served as each individual child's entrance to the house under the ground. Before they could go to their respective tree, Wendy's wolf bounded up to them, her tail wagging wildly. And proudly she held three young rabbits in her mouth. She laid them at Peter's and Wendy's feet with reverence.

Amazed and filled with joy at these events, Wendy fell to her knees and embraced her wolf affectionately.

"Oh, thank you!" the girl breathed into the warm gray fur. "You dear! Now I have rabbit for tonight. Thank you."

The wolf licked her face lovingly before disappearing into the shadows. As Wendy gathered the rabbits, she heard Peter murmur to himself, "Of course I did nothing." Realizing she had, in fact, not thanked him for getting the crab, she turned to him and smiled brightly at him.

"Thank you very much, Peter, for getting the crab," she thanked him. Impulsively, she quickly laid a kiss on his cheek and, suddenly realizing that was the ninth kiss he had gotten this evening, she turned away quickly, blushing. But she did not have time to linger on those things; night was fast approaching, and the meal still had to be made.

When she came into the house under the ground, she was greeted by eight happy boys who, in turn, rushed to Peter when he stepped out of his tree.

~~~

The boys had fallen asleep a while ago, and Tinker Bell herself had retired for the night. Only Peter and Wendy remained awake in the silent house. Seated in her rocker before the fire, Wendy was starting to make for herself a dress from old, unused, scraps of cloth. Her nightgown was not as snowy white as it had been, and it was ripped in some places. Yes, soon she would be in need of another dress.

She was thankful for the quietness and stillness. She had several times had to banish Peter and the boys from her "kitchen," for they had been most curious in knowing what she would use the crab for; she had cooked the crab by itself, seasoning it. Everyone had loved it and pleaded for her to make it again. She had been relieved it had come off so well, for it was a new recipe.

As she bent over her sewing, she sneaked fugitive glances at Peter who sat on the floor next to her rocker. He had simply gazed at the fire in silence for over an hour. Wendy had followed his lead. Her heart pounded in nervous excitement, for she did not know what to expect tonight. She accidentally pricked her finger with the needle and sucked on the wounded finger for a moment.

Glancing at Peter, she watched as his head nodded slightly before he abruptly straightened, his eyes widening as he fought off the sleepiness. An amused smile touched the corners of Wendy's mouth.

"Peter." Pausing in her work, she shook his shoulder gently. He looked at her in surprise. "Why don't you go to bed? It is late," she said. "Are you tired?"

Shaking his head in denial, Peter brought up a hand to cover a huge yawn. He looked at her sheepishly as she laughed quietly.

"Go on," she urged.

Climbing a bit groggily to his feet, Peter looked at Wendy, as though trying to decide if he wanted to say something. Wendy waited patiently. He opened his mouth a few times only to close it again.

"Wendy…," he trailed off, and shook his head. "Wendy," he started again, "the boys are almost finished building their tree house."

"Are they?" Wendy's eyes lighted up.

Peter nodded. "Perhaps you would like to come see it…"

"I have not seen it since they started it. I would love to see how they are doing on it," Wendy exclaimed.

A half smile settled on Peter's face as he nodded. Bending down, he turned his cheek towards her, imploring for a goodnight kiss. Wendy obliged.

"Goodnight, Wendy," Peter said.

"Goodnight, Peter," she replied. She was not sure if she felt relieved or disappointed when Peter walked away to his bed without another word.

With a sigh she started up on her work again. Tonight no stars watched her.


	5. The Stars Come Out Again

Wendy rubbed a hand over her eyes before she folded up her partly done dress and tucked it in her sewing basket along with her thread and needle. After putting it away, she added a few logs to the fire. Wrapping her arms around herself, she watched thoughtfully the sleeping boys for a minute. A smile tugged on the corners of her mouth as she took note of Curly’s head hanging over the edge of the bed at a seemingly uncomfortable angle. Holding back a giggle, she walked to him and gently placed his head back on his pillow, careful not to wake him. She quickly glanced at Peter as she crossed the room where her bedding was rolled up against the wall; he was asleep with his mouth slightly open. She began to pick up her pillow and one of the blankets. Then she paused, a thought brushing her mind.

Wendy hesitated a moment, gazing from the pillow and blanket in her hands to the others sleeping and back again, before settling her bed items back on the floor. Quietly she moved about the house. She got her dagger and strapped it around her waist. She then retrieved the small lantern that rested on a shelf, and lighted it. Quickly, carefully, she left house through her tree and stepped outside.

The night was cool, and Wendy shivered slightly. She smiled politely at the two Indians who noticed her presence before silently moving into the underbrush, holding the lantern high in front of her. It was her first time going to her secret hideaway in the dead of night, and she was unable to shake away a feeling of slight unease as she slowly made her through the dark island.

The Neverland, lighted by the pale moon, full of shadows, silent say for the light breeze stirring through the trees and brushes, was strangely different from the bright, pleasant, Neverland Wendy was used to, the one that basked in the sunshine and rang with the singing of birds, mermaids, and boys’ laughter. Wrapping her free arm around her, she shuddered slightly. Being alone in this unfamiliar dark, mysterious Neverland frightened her a bit.

Pausing in her walking, Wendy looked behind her. In the dim light it seemed, to her eyes, the gnarled trees with their nearly bare branches formed a tunnel closing behind her. Wendy blinked and shook her head, knowing it was only her imagination, her eyes playing tricks on her, for she was certain she was not far from reaching the curtains of ivy.

Squaring her shoulders, she bravely plunged on but halted several minutes later as a nearby howl reached her ears. Wendy paled. She knew wild beasts roamed the island in the hours of darkness, Peter had told her of such tales. She regrettably recalled his warning her never to go out alone about the island after nightfall; if she ever did, she should have himself, Slightly, or Tootles go with her. He had told her, his hazel eyes full of sternness (very unusual for him).

She uttered a small cry when she heard an answering howl, this one closer. With a shaking hand she drew her dagger and looked wildly about, trying to pinpoint from which direction the howls had come. A rustle from her left grabbed her attention. Filled with panic, she was tempted to run but knew she would become lost if she ran away blindly, and Peter was one never to run away from danger… Quickly setting the lantern on the ground, Wendy waited for the unknown creature to appear, her heart pounding, her hands becoming wet, her mouth dry, and her eyes wide.

The scuffling came closer until the bush right before Wendy swayed in the windless air. She clutched her dagger tightly in her white-knuckled hands. She blinked in confusion when a bark like sound came from the bush. In the next moment Wendy’s wet wolf bounded out from behind it.

A crashing wave of relief washed over Wendy as she let out a long, shaky sigh. Putting away her dagger with numb hands, she sunk slowly to the ground, her legs having turned to jelly. For a long moment, she simply wrapped her arms around her wolf’s neck and buried her face in its warm, soft fur, trembling still. As she took a deep breath, the last of her fears vanished, and a sense of security gently embraced her. A happy smile crept across her face.

Rubbing her face over the silver-grey fur a final time, she drew back, keeping her arms about her pet, and became aware of the fact that her wolf had its head thrown back and was howling in perhaps a joyous fashion, as though saying, _I found you!_ over and over again. Wendy’s smile broadened, and she giggled when her wolf ceased its howling and covered its mistress’s upturned face with wet kisses.

When both had calmed down, Wendy playfully wagged a finger at her wolf. “You shouldn’t scare me like that,” she scolded.

Her wolf’s only response was to lick her a last time and to wave its tail back and forth wildly.

Wendy rose to her feet and retrieved the nearly forgotten lantern. She resumed her journey with a new sense of protection and excitement. She gently had hold of her wolf, while again she held the lantern before them to provide a little light as they moved into the forest.

Within minutes they passed through the first curtain of ivy. Wendy stumbled slightly, but her wolf led her slowly, knowingly, forward. An undeterminable time later, the two walked through the final curtain. Wendy tilted her back, her eyes widening at the sight she beheld, gasped, and quickly blew out the light in the lantern.

Silently she sat down and felt her wolf settle beside her. She wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees, suddenly feeling small and insignificant, an intruder.

The enclosed clearing was not dark and gloomy as the rest of the island tonight, nor as deserted and silent as this morning. Beams of light darted about the area, many appearing from and disappearing into the gold and silver trees. Pixie dust of dazzling colors, blue, white, orange, yellow, green, and violet rained down to the forest floor, twinkling like stars having fallen to the earth from the heavens.

In delight and awe Wendy watched the breathtaking spectacle high above her head. At times when she narrowed her eyes, she thought she could make out the forms of the fairies that flew close by her. As the balls of light ceased darting about and seemed to form pairs, the air seemed to be filled with a lighthearted, mystical music.

A dreamy sigh escaped Wendy’s lips, and she momentarily turned her attention to her wolf who requested a pat on the head. When she raised her head again, Wendy’s brows rose.

Sailing almost lazily among the dancing, whirling fairies and dust was a figure that did not glow or shimmer. Descending through the air, Wendy gradually realized who it was. She was unable to keep from gaping as Peter gracefully landed before her, a smile on his face. She continued staring as he seated himself beside her. He gazed at her for a long time, two stars twinkling at her. Blinking, she found her voice.

“What are you doing here?” she asked in a near whisper.

Peter grinned cockily. “Looking for you,” he said.

Blushing at this unexpected answer, Wendy dropped her eyes. “Really?”

“You’ve always been sitting before the fireplace, sewing, whenever I would look.” A thoughtful look came to Peter’s eyes. “But you were not anywhere in the house tonight. The redskins pointed the way you went – a long while ago. Your wolf was nearby and anxious to help me find you.” He frowned, troubled.

Wendy listened, speechless.

“I heard her howls signaling she had found you. And I found you here,” he ended. His frowned softened when he turned to Wendy.

“I’m sorry I worried you,” she stammered.

With a shake of his head, the worry lines disappeared from the boy’s face, the stars in his eyes winked at her, and he smiled. He motioned to the fairies above them.

“They have a dance here every year,” he said, “all the fairies from the island, and the fairy court.”

“Oh, how sweet!” Wendy breathed. Among those hundreds balls of light, was she watching fairy royalty?

The three companions watched the dazzling display in silence. As time slipped on, Wendy blinked her eyes sleepily and fought back a yawn; she did not want to fall asleep during this amazing spectacle. Unconsciously her head slowly came to rest on Peter’s shoulder as she grew drowsier. Her attention focused on the magical creatures, music, and rain; she was not aware of Peter peeking down at her and smiling tenderly, nor of his hand brushing her hair before he lifted his head up once more.

“It is so lovely,” Wendy mumbled before allowing her heavy lids to close shut. Never would she forget this night, never.

“Yes, you are.”

Wendy opened her eyes for a second to discover the raining dust subsiding and the balls of light lessening. Closing her eyes, she allowed sleep to creep over her. The warmth of something like a blanket surrounded her. Her last conscious thought was that she had only imagined hearing those words.

THE END


End file.
